


Healer Frederick Chilton and His 'Condition'

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, I hadn't seen any 'entirely different setting' style AU'S for ChillyWilly, M/M, oh god it's a multichapter fic, so I made my own
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1560533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are running out of skilled healers, sir. The former Palace Healer and his apprentice are… gone. Healer Alana can not possibly be expected to leave Her Highness Abigail to take up their duties, and even the retired Madame Bedelia can’t pick up the slack in the interim because she has seemingly disappeared in thin air. You can not afford to let the magic of only other properly trained healer you’ve got float in the wind just because you don’t think his motives are civic minded enough.”</p><p>Recently de-magicked Healer Frederick Chilton has every reason to enter the Forest looking for the solution to his magic problem. He just doesn't know the half of what his stay in the cabin with said forest's resident Sorcerer is going to entail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healer Frederick Chilton and His 'Condition'

“I said no, Chilton.”

Master Healer to the Public Frederick Chilton rose out of his seat across from Crawford, knuckles white on his staff from how firmly he was gripping it, “Lord Commander, I understand your reservations, but something has to be done-”

“You _want_ something to be done, Healer. I’m not going to allow you to enter the Forest because you want a promotion.”

“What I want is my magic back at all, which is the same thing you _need_ ,” Frederick shifted his stance. Remembered that Crawford was technically the highest authority in the land right now, “Lord Commander.”

“You know what I need, do you?” Crawford leaned back in his chair, “Do tell.”

“You are running out of skilled healers, sir. The former Palace Healer and his apprentice are… gone. Healer Alana can not possibly be expected to leave Her Highness Abigail to take up their duties, and even the retired Madame Bedelia can’t pick up the slack in the interim because she has seemingly disappeared in thin air. You can not afford to let the magic of only other properly trained healer you’ve got float in the wind just because you don’t think his motives are civic minded enough,” Frederick was making his case through clenched teeth, toward the end. He left off mentioning why the only remaining master-vetted healer wasn’t an option.

“Watch your tone, healer,” Crawford glared him into a bow of acquiescence, “To be clear: I do not believe for one second that your motives are civic minded at all. That said, you’re… not entirely wrong.”

Frederick held back a smug grin and waited for the catch.

“I’m… going to give you leave, and my explicit permission to go wherever your poor dead heart takes you. But I’m not going to order one of my knights to accompany you.”

“What?” Frederick sputtered, “You’ve got to be kidding me- I have no way of getting through the forest to the cabin on my own! I’ll be- I won’t be any more useful to you eaten alive, Lord Commander!”

“Uh-huh,” Crawford looked him up and down and gave him a look, like the thought of Frederick being eaten didn’t bother him in the slightest. “I suppose you’re either going to have to get yourself a volunteer or just not go, won’t you?”

“No one is going to volunteer to take me to-”

“That sounds like a personal problem to me, Healer. Best get on it,” Crawford nodded at the door.

Frederick swallowed down a comeback and turned to stalk out of Crawford’s office, hiding his limp to the best of his abilities. He barely managed to keep himself from slamming the door behind him.

He stopped just outside the door to simmer down before he turned toward the Knight’s quarters. They’d be disinclined toward helping him even at his most civil, best not to push it further.

“I wouldn’t bother.”

Frederick damn near jumped out of his skin, letting out a small shout as he whipped around. “Lounds!”

The red-head raised an eyebrow.

“Spymaster Lounds, I mean. Of course,” Frederick rolled his eyes, “I suppose I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“No, I think ‘surprised’ would be a pretty fair description for what I just did to you,” Lounds smirked, “And to think, this is how you act when I’m helping you.”

Frederick huffed through his nose, but. If there was anyone in this castle Spymaster Lounds was on friendly enough terms with to help of her own volition, it would be him. No matter how untrustworthy she was to most, or how many unpleasant memories her presence brought up, “Helping me how, Spymaster?”

“Well,” she drawled, “I may have overheard a bit of your conversation with the Lord Commander, if you hadn’t already figured that out.”

“I managed to parse that much, yes. And?”

“And! Like I said, don’t even bother going to the knights. Not a single one of them will agree to go to that forest besides Sir Beverly, and she wouldn’t bring _you_ to the Sorcerer’s cabin for anything you could possibly offer her.”

“Your extremely helpful input has been noted. Any actual suggestions?”

Lounds tutted. “If you’d let me get there, maybe. You know the Druid that lives at the town’s edge, Peter?”

“I’ve… heard of him, yes,” Frederick frowned, "He's a bit reclusive, but he's the only Druid in town."

“Yes, him,” Lounds shrugged, “He visits the cabin once a week, every week, like clockwork. Seeing as he doesn’t know you, he might find you agreeable enough to take with him.”

Yes, yes, nobody liked him. “Right, thanks tremendously.”

Lounds bowed theatrically. “I live to serve.”

“... really, though, Spymaster Lounds,” Frederick nodded his head toward her respectfully, “I appreciate any help at all, at this point.”

“Yes, well,” Lounds tossed her hair, “I was hardly going to let you go wander off into the woods and get yourself destroyed by a wendigo, after all that effort I put into keeping you… well, moving, at least.”

He smiled thinly, “Yes, well. I’ll just be… going.”

“Right,” She shooed him away, “Just outside the north city wall, his little.. hut thing is impossible to miss. Off you trot.”

-

Frederick didn’t actually set out until the next morning. He brought a packed bag with him because while he didn’t expect the Druid to agree to set off on the spot, he’d rather not turn the opportunity down if it arose.

As it turned out, Lounds was right. Peter’s home was both impossible to miss, and perfectly characterized as a ‘hut thing’, a rickety monstrosity covered in overgrown flora and animal droppings. Frederick took a moment to rest, and then tried to knock on the door without either touching said droppings or causing it to collapse in on itself. He wasn’t looking forward to the cacophony of animals he could already hear from outside this place’s thin walls, no matter how appropriate it was for a druid to have a menagerie.

Peter opened the door, and the walls must have been more effective than Frederick thought because he was almost bowled over by the sudden barrage of chattering and stomping and barking from inside. He took a step back and winced harshly.

“I- I’m sorry, they get, excited,” Peter stepped out and closed the door behind him, much to Frederick’s relief, “What, ah, what brings you here?”

Peter only gave Frederick a cursory glance before glancing away and scratching behind his ear, but it was enough for Frederick to worry. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it earlier. Druids were more attuned to the natural order of things than any other brand of magician, even more than a Sorcerer or Healer. If anyone was going to recognize what he was- what was wrong with him- it would be this man.

But if Peter was alarmed, he did a good job of not showing it, and after a moment Frederick relaxed, “My name is Healer Frederick Chilton. I’ve been told you go to visit the Sorcerer fairly regularly?”

“Yeah, yeah I do. We- we’re friends,” Peter shrugged one shoulder, “S’not hard to go, when you know how. Why?” Peter shot him another furtive glance, “I’m allowed to. Got permission.”

“I’m sure you did,” Frederick frankly did not actually care, “I was asking because I’ve actually been sent to visit the man myself, but I don’t know the way. Would you be willing to take me?”

“I- uh, sure, sure. I mean- when? Why d’you wanna go?” Peter still wasn’t looking at him. Frederick wanted to ask, but given his own condition he really wasn't comfortable starting down that avenue of discussion.

“Well, as soon as possible would be ideal, actually,” Frederick adjusted his bag over his shoulder, and Peter’s eyes followed the movement of his hand, "I need his help with a.. personal matter."

“I could- we could now. If you like,” Peter gestured at the trees beyond his house, “It’s early, we got time.”

“Really?” Frederick couldn’t keep the surprised excitement out of his voice, “That would- that would be ideal.”

“Mmm. I gotta- I’ll feed the animals, get some food,” Peter nodded and disappeared back into his very loud hut.

When he returned Frederick was already waiting by the treeline, fiddling with his staff in his own impatience. Peter was soon beside him, but rather than setting immediately off into the woods he took a moment and let out a long, slow whistle.

Frederick was briefly confused, but Peter’s reason soon became clear. There was a subtle shifting in the trees that does not at all do the source of the movement justice, as from the foliage some sort of massive bone creature prowled out, otherwise shockingly silent in its movements.

Frederick’s heart jumped up to double time. He jerked back and fell over in his haste to get away from this creature of tooth and claw, larger than any bear, scrambling to bring his staff uselessly up in front of him.

Conversely, Peter stepped closer to the beast. Even as Frederick resigned himself to have trusted his life to the hands of some sort of suicidal fool, he saw the other man raise a hand to rub across the beasts bare skull-muzzle. He spoke soothingly to- Frederick, apparently.

“It’s okay, sir. He- he won’t hurt you with me, okay?” Peter massaged at the thing’s neck-bones, “His name is-”

“I know who he is,” Frederick managed, standing up and eyeing the creature who used to be Randall Tier, the Palace Healer’s apprentice, “I’ve seen the people he's ripped apart, how did you tame him?”

Randall let out a furious growl and it was all Frederick could do not to fall over again. Peter ran his hands over the thing and muttered something Frederick couldn’t hear, and soon the beast was relaxed once more.

“Didn’t- didn’t _tame_ him. S’a friend, he likes to, to visit too.”

“Who, the Sorcerer?” Frederick kept his distance but moved around the beast, a bit, to get a better look at him. It was really very fascinating. He would blame that for the stupid question, later. To himself.

“No,” Peter’s hands fell and he looked suddenly a bit uncomfortable, “The other.”

He froze, and let his eyes fall back on to Randall’s head. He was looking straight at Frederick.

“... Right. Of course.”

 

-

 

As Peter had said, the walk to the cabin was not terribly difficult the way he took it. There was still an embarrassingly long time spent trying to get there, but at least Frederick was fairly certain the only person his limp was slowing down was Randall. He could live with that.

It was also spent mostly in silence. Peter seemed content not to speak, Frederick didn’t want any sort of in depth discussion, and there were only so many ways one could make generic small-talk about trees.

Needless to say, when Frederick realized the trees were starting to thin and he could see the cabin faintly in the distance, it came as a huge relief.

The fact that Peter reached up to pat at Randall’s side and the beast ran off certainly helped, although Frederick gave the other man a questioning look.

“They don’t… get along. Randall’s friend is-” Peter gestured around the forest, “-out there, somewhere.”

Oh. Right. That was… unsettling. Frederick swallowed, and nodded, and just kept walking toward the cabin.

It was decently sized, although Frederick couldn’t say it was big enough that he himself would be entirely comfortable spending the rest of his life in it. He’d only met the Sorcerer once, before he’d been confined, and while they hadn’t exactly gotten along he had to respect how much the other man was clearly sacrificing. Hopefully that respect would keep him from saying anything… too tactless.

They were soon on the porch, and with a knock Peter set what sounded like an entire pack of dogs off barking. Frederick tried not to think about how he’d never really gotten on with dogs.

Moments later, the door opened, and there stood the Sorcerer himself. He seemed happy to see Frederick’s companion, at least.

“Peter! I thought you wouldn’t be coming up here for another few days, what-”

And then he saw Frederick.

As it turned out, Will Graham was both not as polite as Peter and not as concerned with tact as Frederick.

“- Chilton, is that- what the _hell_ happened to you?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure no one saw that coming. (I was not actually trying to be terribly subtle there, thank goodness.)


End file.
